fatherhood
by xCaligula
Summary: Laurie visits Eddie's grave.


Though New York was probably the last place either of them needed to be, Laurie managed to convince Dan to take her there, just for a little bit. Just for this one thing she had to do, and then they could leave. Of course, they'd be going for an equally unsafe visit to California, but he couldn't blame her for wanting to see her mother after everything. This, on the other hand, was a little less necessary, but when she plead her case, he agreed.

"I wasn't at the funeral," she said. "I still don't know if I would have been, but I wasn't there and now that I know...I don't know. I just need to do this."

She'd had more suspicions than she ever let herself face, but she knew without a doubt now. Edward Blake, not Hooded Justice, not Larry Schexnayder, was her father, and the uneasy feeling she'd had since she'd heard about his death had only multiplied and she wanted to visit his grave. She didn't know what it would accomplish; he was dead and he'd never really been a father to her anyway, whether that was by his choice or not, and she didn't feel like she needed closer, per se.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that this was something she needed to do, and so they made the trip home, arriving at the cemetery. Dan offered to go with her, but she said that all she really needed was for him to show her to the grave, and that then she would like to be alone. Alone with her father, she thought, and she wondered what, if anything, the word would ever mean to her.

When she was alone, she sighed, suddenly unsure of what she was doing here. She had a bouquet of yellow roses- it seemed fitting for him, and it had been her mother's favorite color as well, another thing that was supposed to run in the family- that she laid down, before straightening herself. "I don't have your hair anymore," she said at last. "I know that's what you meant to say, the first time we met. You said I didn't have mom's hair, but you knew I had yours. Well, I don't anymore." She twirled a blonde strand on her finger and laughed nervously.

"I only met you twice," she continued. "And I guess both times were pretty messed up. God." She groaned. "I can't believe I actually hit on you that first time. You must have felt so fucking weird about it...or maybe you just thought it was funny. I guess it kind of is.

"The second time...Christ, must have made you feel horrible. I mean, you deserve it, for what you did but...if mom really forgave you, I guess you did enough feeling horrible about it already." Sighing again, she paused. "I'm not saying I forgive you, but I'm a little bit sorry for it, just because...hell, I know it must have been hard hearing that from me and knowing the truth."

Laurie felt ridiculous, talking into the air like this, but it had all built up so much, and he wasn't around for her to tell anymore. "You weren't a good dad or anything, just because you weren't really my dad, but you did your best to be...whatever you were. I'm sure mom just didn't want you around, and it must have been hard to step back, but you did. I don't know what was between you two but thank you for doing that for her. And I'm sorry you got thrown out a window, that's a really shitty way to go. I don't really know what I'm doing here or trying to accomplish but...you're my father. And we never got to talk about that, and I kinda wish we could."

Now she was rambling, and she knew Dan would get nervous if she wasted much time, so she decided to cut it short. It wasn't like Eddie would notice, after all. "Anyway," she said, "I'm sorry everything turned out the way it did. You weren't...the absolute worst man in the world, I guess."

Turning, Laurie began to walk back to where Dan waited for her, surprised by the fact that she did feel a little bit better. Now came the harder part, which was confronting Sally about the truth, but she wasn't afraid of that confrontation. For once, there wouldn't be a fight because Laurie understood now that she couldn't understand, and that whatever had happened in the past was something only her mother could really know.


End file.
